More Than Something
by PianoAddict246
Summary: EPOV of The Thing About Being Everything. When Edward moves back to town after leaving her years ago, Bella has to make a decision about where she stands with Mike and her friends. With Edward to get her hot and bothered, this should be interesting. AH
1. Chapter 1

**I got a few responses that wanted Edward's point of view throughout The Thing About Being Everything (which you should got to my profile to find, click on, and read, in order to understand what this AN is about) and there were questions about why he is the way he is, and I personally am curious too, so I decided to write his POV as a separate story, so it doesn't get mixed in with Bella's. It's confusing for me that way because I have to get in a different mindset to write their individual perspectives. I'm still not sure where Edward's character is going, but I'm getting ideas as I write, so we'll see where this goes. I also cannot gauge how quickly updates come. I'm in my last year of school, so I've got multiple things to worry about.  
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**Enjoy :)**

**Oh, and maybe I'm supposed to put a disclaimer here, even though we all know everything belongs to Mrs Meyer. Regardless, the characters do not belong to me. Though I wish Edward did. :P**

**OOOO**

"So I guess Mom wants to move out," I said, trying to contain the anger at my mother for what she was making me do.

I watched my best friend bite her lip and look away, the way she always did when she was very upset, and hoped the tears I could see threatening to spill over wouldn't do just that, because I might not be able to hold my own tears in.

I could feel the tension in the small room and the pressure constricted my chest; I found myself struggling to breathe normally.

"Look, I can write, you know? I can call and stuff, and you can give me your address and I can come visit and…" I hear her trail off as I stared out the window, hardly able to keep this all in. I just didn't know how it would work. I suddenly wished I was older, we were older, so we could drive to visit each other, or were more responsible about keeping in touch, or maybe I'd even have the option to stay.

"Okay," she continued quietly, that determined tone she got in bad situations, trying to reassure herself she'd get out of it. "Okay, it'll be okay. It'll all be just fine." God, I couldn't help but wonder whether saying those words aloud more often might have miraculously kept this from happening.

I took a deep breath but I already choked on the words. "Bella, I…" What does a twelve-year-old say to a girl? Isn't this the time when girls have cooties? Is it different when the girl to say it to is the girl you're leaving behind because your mother is too selfish to consider what you want? Not for me. Never Bella. She was my best friend. I sighed. "Thanks, you know? You're all right for a girl." I tried to smile, but I'm sure it looked more like a grimace. But she laughed. I would miss that.

"Ya think so?" she tried to joke, but I noticed how hard it was for her to do so.

"Bella, stop crying, please?" I begged for my own sake.

"I'm not crying." Despite her words, she rubbed at her eyes roughly.

Stubborn Bella. I sighed again, wearily. "Yes, you are. Only wimps cry and you're not a wimp." I certainly felt like a wimp right now though. I wished I could believe my own words. Downstairs, I could hear my mother open the front door. If I was going to do this, I had to do it now. I reached into my pocket for the familiar figure. "Here," I said, handing it to her. "My dad made two for me. He was always doing something with paint or clay, stuff like that, and he said it took him two months to get them just right. You better not lose it." I'm sure my attempt to be stern failed miserably.

The small clay lizard was a bright green, the same green of my father's and my eyes, with gold down the line of its tail. I smiled at the memory of how I'd obtained the little figurine. My father had come home from another day at the hospital and I remember being so excited. I always looked forward to my dad coming home. But he was so tired. I wondered briefly why I hadn't seen it then, how tired he was. But even when he could hardly stand, he walked down the hall to his study, asking me to follow him. From a box on the windowsill behind his desk, he pulled out two small lizards made of clay. "I painted them the same green I saw when you first opened your eyes the day you were born. I'll never forget that intelligence and curiosity I found in such young eyes. Believe me, son, you are the best thing that happened to your mother and me." And I believed it. I wished I could have done more for him. The lizards held more meaning for me than the other things he gave me and they still did. And Bella would understand it, she'd understand me. She always had. I watched now as she smiled at the green reptile and sighed.

"So can I name it Eddie?"

The name hit a familiar nerve and I felt the terror of the situation hit me full force. I would never get to put up with her teasing after I walked out her front door. I tried to hold up my usual attitude towards the nickname, but I'm not sure I got it across. I just couldn't. "Ha. Ha. Ha."

I gauged her reaction and I could tell she appreciated my effort to lighten the mood. Her small hand reached up to tuck a strand of her loose hair behind her ear and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop my lip from trembling like a wimp's. I'm not a wimp.

**Please review and tell me if I should keep going with EPOV. I'm a little intimidated by the thought that I probably won't do him justice. If you don't have me on author alert and want to keep up with both BPOV and EPOV, please put me on author alert. Or you could just do two story alerts. Or whatever works for you. :) **

**Reviews would be nice.**

**Love, PianoAddict246 (or Emily Grace if you prefer)**


	2. She's Been Hiding

I couldn't believe I was actually in the car driving back in the direction of the one town I was sure I couldn't handle. Was my mother insane? Yes.

I watched the familiar greenery rush by; saw the ancient "Welcome to Forks" sign as I entered. My thoughts immediately drifted to what my life here had been like. Probably the best time of my life and somehow the worst. Maybe it was that this would be the second, not first, time I'd see that city limits sign. Maybe it was because that 'time' had changed my mother's life to the point where I felt she really was insane. Maybe it was because that 'time' had changed my life to the point where I was going to have trouble staying sane.

"We're here!" Esme said a little too cheerfully for my mood as she pulled into the driveway of a very…big house. There really was no other way to describe it. How did we afford to stay here?

Before she even parked the car I threw the door open and stepped out, dragging my 'carry-on' with me. The house was white, with two floors from what I could see, windows covering almost the entire surface of the front side. A worn stone path led to dilapidated stairs led to a plain rectangular door. The trees and shrubbery surrounding it, and the bit of vine I could see creeping around the side, gave it an old lived-in feel. Though I wouldn't admit it to Esme, I was sure I'd like it well enough.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked as she opened the trunk. Her smile was so genuine, but there was something else in her eyes I couldn't read.

"Yeah, Mom, great." My purposed sarcasm wasn't missed and she huffed, going back to pulling things out of the car.

Car. "Mom?"

"Yes, dear."

"What am I supposed to drive to school? I refuse to let you give me a ride there and let everyone else think me a dumbass without a license."

"Language," she scolded before turning to me and dropping a suitcase by her feet. "You'll drive Baby, of course."

I cringed at the nickname she'd given my car. "Okay, and how are you getting to work?"

"Oh, I don't start work until next week, so we'll worry about it later." Just like Mom to leave things to last minute. I sighed and grabbed the keys to the house from her hand, ignoring her protest.

Inside, the house was…spacious. Each room I could see from the entrance was so wide and empty, and I had a feeling it would stay that way for a while. We just don't have enough stuff to fill these up. I wonder what Esme was thinking in buying (buying, not renting) this place. I paced slowly through each room, taking in every detail, or what was there of it. Hardwood floors, white walls, high ceilings; a big kitchen with plain plastic-y countertops and a glass top stove. The most intriguing piece of work in the entire first floor was the mantelpiece and fireplace in the sitting room. It was enormous for a fireplace, made of heavy iron that had been welded intricately in wildflower and river reeds and other plants.

"Cool, isn't it?" Esme's voice startled me out of my observation, echoing in the vastness of the room.

"Yeah," I offered a smile, half assed as it was. "I'll go find a room, since I'm assuming there's more than a few upstairs." I didn't ask why the big house, but I would later.

Of the five rooms on the second floor, I picked the one at the end of the hall. It was smaller than the others but two of the walls were clear glass so I could see the small creek that ran through the back 'yard.' It was also the west wall, so I'd get the setting sun rather than the rising. Satisfied with my decision I drop what I brought in and make four more trips to the car before it is empty of our stuff.

"Mom, when are the movers getting here?" I asked anxiously.

Mom misread the nervous tick I had of running my hand through my hair. "Don't worry, honey, I packed enough clothes in your suitcase for a few weeks."

I didn't know what to dwell on, the fact that my mother wouldn't let me pack my own suitcase or that moving back to Forks had made her very clueless about her own son. "Yeah, but when are they coming?"

"Tomorrow, dear. Impatient, are we?" She smiled and for a moment it was the Esme before everything happened, before California, before Forks, before those months in…I stopped myself there…for a moment, that smile meant 'Don't worry, everything will work out, nothing stays bad forever' and then it swiftly shifted to the newer smile, the one that believed everything needed to work out because there was no other choice left.

"Call me if you need help with anything," I called over my shoulder and went upstairs to my room to begin unpacking. If I was going to be honest with anyone, I could care less about the clothes in the moving van. I really just needed my piano.

I smiled to myself as I opened the first box of my CDs. There were few things I took interest in back in California, but music had always been a passion of mine, particularly classical, though I never told that to any friends I'd made. When I was four my father introduced me to various different musical instruments that he'd learned to play in his life and kept in the spare room. I found I enjoyed trying out every one of them, but the ones I picked up easily were the piano and the flute, the latter which I lost interest in when one of my friends told me it was girly instrument. I'd practice the Spinet in the living room and pretend I was like my father, charming and quietly holding the attention of an audience as he played a simple Christmas tune at the neighbor's Christmas party. After he died…I just didn't feel the same way when I played anything, simple though the music was. When Charlie gave me that keyboard for Christmas the December before I left with my mom, it brought back all those memories of unofficial lessons with Carlisle. I was so frustrated when I found I had to almost start over with practicing. Bella made sure to tease me about it when I tried and that didn't help any. "Bella," I said aloud, startling myself out of my thoughts. I looked around and realized I'd been standing in near darkness. The sun had gone down a little bit ago and my CDs were neatly stacked in one corner of the room awaiting their holder. But I'd only unpacked one box. Great, I sighed.

"Edward?"

I jumped at Esme's voice, so sudden. "Yeah, Mom."

"Sorry to startle you." She turned on the light and walked into my new room. "Nice choice, very nice."

"Did you come in here to compliment my room or was there something else?" I said a little too unkindly and I saw from the way her eyes fell she thought so too. "Sorry, that came out wrong."

"I wanted to see if you were hungry and might eat dinner with your poor old mom?" she said with a teasing smile, thought the hurt look still creased her eyes.

"Sure, Mom, I'll come down with you. What are we having?" I followed her out of the room, flicking the light off on the way out.

"Well, unfortunately, until we get our things we won't be having any magnificently home cooked meals, so we're having the leftover food we carried on the trip here."

I laughed. "When did we ever have magnificently home cooked meals?"

She turned on the stairs and swatted my arm lightly. "Hey, I try, okay?"

"Joking, Mother. It's all good anyway. Chips and peanut butter sandwiches sound delicious."

"We have Chex Mex, Eddie, and a cooler full of…well carrot sticks is what's left in there."

"It's Chex _Mix_, Mom. Whatever, pull it all out," I emphasized by lifting the cooler out of the front hall into the kitchen and setting it on the floor. Mom was already there with the Fritos and sandwiches out of the daypack.

As I ate leaning against the counter and Esme sat on it, I handed her a bottle of water and grabbed my own. "To the new house," I toasted, twisting the cap off and lifting my bottle towards her.

"To a new life," she said more quietly, lifting hers.

We were silent after that, finishing our makeshift dinner and cleaning up quickly. Then she fetched our sleeping bags from the front closet where she'd already stuffed a number of things. Handing one to me, she offered a small smile. "Well, you've got school tomorrow, so you better get some rest. It's been a long day." I took it from her and almost turned.

"Mom, where are you sleeping?"

She turned from the window and it hit me how much like a mother she looked right then. To me, she'd always looked younger than she was and she always had this spirit that seemed to keep her lively and young. Now, as she looked past me, jutting her chin towards where I assumed the main bedroom was, I could visibly see worry creases at the corners of her eyes. She was still my beautiful mother, but she looked so tired, so worn.

"If you want…you can come and, um, sleep in my room with me," I said a little nervously, absently scratching the back of my neck. "If you want. I mean, it's kind of empty down here."

Esme smiled then and she was my old mom again. "Sure. I'd love to spend the night with my little boy before he gets too old for his momma." She grabbed her sleeping bag and followed me out of the kitchen and up the stairs, turning off lights as she went.

"Mom, are you forgetting I'm seventeen?" I chuckled.

"I don't care if you're seventy, you're still my baby," she responded in her motherly way. I did love her, as embarrassing as she could be sometimes.

My room was pitch dark except for the spot in front of the windows where the moonlight glowed eerily. I couldn't imagine sleeping in such a vast empty room with two windows for walls and a full moon showing me where the shadows were. In the very back of my mind a little voice in my head was grateful my mother agreed to stay with me.

We set up next to the window so we weren't in direct light but close enough to see. We said good night and fell quiet. I stared towards the ceiling, wondering how my first day of school would go. I wasn't antisocial and I was pretty quick with making friends when I wanted to; that wasn't my worry. But how was I going to adapt to starting over, again? Ever since my dad died all Mom and I ever did was move from one place to another. It was almost as if she was trying to find a life that was just like the one we had with Dad. I had accepted that no one would replace him or the memories we had; maybe Mom hadn't. I remembered the painfully familiar smile on her wearied face when we got here, that 'man, I hope everything will turn out' smile instead of the old 'don't worry, be happy' one.

I looked blindly to my right where my mom was quiet except for her rhythmic breathing. "Mom?" My voice sounded too loud in the darkness so I toned it down.

"Hmm?" she responded softly.

"You know I love you."

She sighed deeply and I felt her roll on her side to face me. "I do know, but thank you for reminding me. It's nice to be told all the same. I love you too." I felt her hand on my forehead, smoothing back my hair like she did when I was much younger. If it were a different setting maybe, like if we weren't in such a big empty house, or if we were at another hotel off the highway, or if we just weren't in Forks, I would have been embarrassed at her overprotective mothering side and brushed her off and teased her that I wasn't a little kid. Tonight though was different, so I let her have her way and smiled at the memories her gentle touch brought back.

"Hey," I said quietly, reaching for her hand.

"Yes, Edward?" she murmured.

I smiled. "Don't worry, be happy," I sang softly and it got the response I was looking for. She laughed and tweaked my nose lightly.

"All right, good night, baby," she answered with another chuckle as she settled back into her sleeping bag.

I lay awake until I heard my mother's deep breathing and light snores. I wasn't sure if moving back to Forks was the right decision; I didn't even ask her why we came back. Mom was just Mom and I didn't really have too much say in the matter. I would follow her wherever she decided to go, no matter what. Then I decided that whether it was right to come back or not, I'd make the best of it. I could see how hard Esme tried when we arrived in a new place and she wasn't telling me it would be perfect; all she could do was try to make good of what we had. And that's what I would do. It was the least I could do.

I drifted off to a dreamless sleep soon after.

I know I'm taking a million years to write but I honestly have found no time to sit and write. It sucks. I've had writer's block for TTABE, though I started writing again earlier, but I decided to get an EPOV out because he has a lot to say. Thanks for sticking with me, dearies. I'm trying to write some more and get another good chapter out by tomorrow but I can't make promises. Thanks to all who put me on alert even weeks after I updated. I love you all. Review this please :D Should I continue EPOV? He talks a lot but I wouldn't mind him talking to me.

Oh, so I hope you all thought the mother/son bonding time was cute. I think it's extremely beneficial to have a good relationship with your parents and to keep it up even as you get older. Sometimes it's easy to forget what you and your mom or dad were like when you hung out years ago. I know I go through that often and I always call my parents up and tell them I love them.

Love y'all.

Emmy


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